The Myth of Sholazar
by WindrunnerProductions
Summary: It was suppose to be a quiet day of fishing for Horn, a nice break from the icy cold Icecrown, but when Nessera hears the cries from the Spirit of Sholazar and runs off, what happens? Is Sholazar in danger? What happened to the Spirit? *I want to cry, this was such an awful summary and I feel like it ended . anyway enjoy? ;-;*


Hello my loves, this is a just a random story I thought I would write. I was on my shaman fishing in Sholazar and it just kind of came to me so here we go. I hope you like it.

I feel like it just fell apart at the end… God why am I so bad at this? ;-;

Rating: Eeeeeeeeeeh K+?

Disclaimers: Warcraft is all yours Blizzard. Hornhunter belongs to my dear Thollo, Nessera is my character though so paws off.

Horn had lazily cast his fishing rod into the clear waters of Sholazar Basin, his hoofs hanging off the fallen log that severed as a bridge casually in the cool, calming lake that sat in the heart of the lush jungle. As he glanced over to his right, he could see his ever so faithful tiger, Rust, rolling around in the warm sunlit sand, basking in all it's glory. His cerulean eyes glazed over with happiness as he looked to the left, only to find his beloved troll carefully picking at a tiger lily.

Her three fingers delicately brushed over the bright colored orange petals, gently picking at the stem, careful not to pluck it from it's sturdy home too quickly, which would only result in damaging the whole flower all together. She smiled proudly to herself as the root gave in and the lily came loose, pulling itself from the rich, dark soil. She mumbled a few words in Zandali, waving her hand over the flower as a light misty rain showered from her palm and onto the petals and root, preserving it from wilting until needed for her alchemy. She quietly placed it in her herbing bag, safely with the others as she continued to shift around, looking for anymore tiger lilies.

"We are suppose to be resting, you do know that right? We must return to Icecrown shortly." Horn shook his head slightly, letting out a puff of air from his nostrils, causing his golden spectrum and triple brown beard braids to bounce about.

The troll simply shrugged, moving a thick bush of grass out of her way as she spotted a small patch of goldclover. "I be enjoying flower pickin' mon."

Cerulean locked with a deep golden, and he couldn't help but to smile at this beautiful soul. Oh how had the Earth Mother blessed him so. He was about to retort a response, when he felt a weak tug on his line. Horn locked eyes with the water instantly, surprised that the fish wasn't giving much of an effort. Swiftly, he reeled the line in, gasping at the small fish.

"Hey Ness… does this look right to you?" He asked, plucking the fish from the sharp hook and standing up on the log, turning to face the approaching girl.

Nessera took the fish from him carefully. It was oddly light weight and small, and instead of the fish being the dark blue it should have been, it faded deeply in color. The eyes of the creature were blood shot, and the fins of the fish were a bruise colored purple. As she moved her hand over the fish scales, they simply fell off with the contact. She paused for a moment before speaking. "… Dis fish be sick, not well. Try again. See what next look like."

Horn nodded, casting his rod back into the water and waited. Rust had grown a curiosity at this point, seeing the look in his companions eyes. He stood, shaking the sand from his fur and growled softly as he paced across the bridge, sitting between the two. He sniffed the fish in Nessera's hand, and the look on his face afterwards was obvious to anyone that the cat did not like what he smelt at all.

The line soon tugged softly shortly after. Horn kept his alerted gaze on the surface of the water as he reeled the line in, glancing over to look at Ness. The way her eyes glazed over with horror as the fish broke past the bank told him everything. This one was worse.

"It's da' Spirit… can ya' hear 'em cryin'?"

Nessera's skin rippled, vanishing and being replaced with ghostly, sandy fur. The golden eyes he's come to love changed. They grew wild, fading in a pupiless blue. Slowly, she got smaller, now standing on all fours. Nessera let out a feral howl, letting the Spirits that roamed here know not to fear, she heard their cry and she shall answer to it. Things would be alright soon.

Before the tauren could even blink, his little ghost wolf was racing up the steep hill, heading into the deep jungles of Sholazar, and out of the River's Heart. She had, apparently, knew exactly what was wrong. He whistled, signaling Rust to run ahead and follow her, yet stay in sight. Horn wasted no time as he gathered his bow and quiver, quickly in pursuit.

To his luck, he had lost sight of them both, but because he was a hunter meant his tracking skills were of the expertise. He knelt down, running his hand over the larger paw prints that dug deep within the mud. His tail lashed behind him as he stood. _These belong to Rust… they must be close._

He picked up his pace, pushing mossy vines out of his way and jumping over tree roots. Where was he exactly? Somewhere deep within the jungle of Sholazar Basin, that was for sure. It looked unfamiliar, yet the same as everything else. It was so hot too, despite it being in Northrend, he'd always wondered how that was possible.

As he kept running, dodging the vines that dare swat at his face, he began to see a small opening. He pushed past the last of the heavily covered moss shrubs, his hoofs stomping as he walked forward into the clearing. Having to cover his eyes from the sudden brightness of the sun, he slowly blinked it back, letting his eyes adjust.

The first thing he saw was Rust, sitting close behind Nessera. His eyes darted to the side to find one of her Healing Stream Totems. He could see Nessera kneeling in front of something, now being in humanoid form of course. As soon as he started walking closer, he stopped dead in his tracks. His eyes grew wide with what he saw, and his breath hitched sharply. It couldn't be…

"Da Spirits be unhappy… an' now ya' know why." Nessera spoke shakily, turning her head enough to glance back at him, her sunny yellow bangs covering her sharp golden eyes.

Horn couldn't move. He could not believe what he was seeing right now. He thought of him as only a myth, for people _tried_ and _failed_ at taming him, he was told stories about how they were so unsuccessful, that many died trying. People claimed to have come face to face with the beast, yet had no proof. How was he to believe…

"Loque'Nahak…" He breathed out.

Horn stepped closer, now standing next to the trolls kneeling form. His eyes traveled all over the laying beast, and he soon regretted it. The beast… had been brutally beaten… there were smaller cuts that littered its body, some worse then others. He could see black bruises starting to form on the beast's face, and its hind leg had obviously been snapped in two. But what caught him off guard was the hideous, deep gash that cut across the cat's stomach. He was literally laying in his own crimson blood, his white and blue spotted fur stained in the metallic substance.

"Someone be tryin' ta' kill da Spirit of da Basin, ta' hang it up on da wall ta' prove he be real." Nessera moved her hands over some of the smaller cuts, letting the misty rain seep into the wounds, slowing sewing them together.

"Spirit of the Basin?" Horn looked through his bag, finding a few bandages. Rust prowled over with a few small, but sturdy twigs in his mouth. He quietly made a "cast" around the Spirit Beast's leg. Loque hissed in pain, snapping his jaws toward the tauren's hand. He barely dodged the bite, eyes wide as he mumbled an apology.

She nodded. "Aye, people no understand dat if da Spirit of Sholazar die or be taken from home, da Basin slowly be diein' wid it. Loque'Nahak stay, Sholazar stay. Dis why da fish was startin' ta' get sick. Understand?"

"Stay… I understand." Horn repeated as he finished up the cast. "What happened to the person who tried to kill him?" He cocked his head to the side in curiosity.

"Loque'nahak ain't be easy ta' kill. Ya' really be tinkin' dat some Alliance warrior gon' take his life?" She pointed a little ways past him.

Horn looked to where her finger pointed, and he mentally winced. Well, he found said Alliance warrior's body mauled, covered in a pool of blood. He could not really tell due to limbs missing, and face basically ripped off, but it looked like a male human, and although he beat Loque severely… maybe all the blood on the Spirit Beast wasn't just his own…

Nessera frowned deeply. Her healing rain just was not enough to heal the greater of the wounds. She was only an elementalist Shaman after all, she did not practice in the more powerful ways of healing. Then it hit her.

"Horn, I need ya' ta' be startin' a fire." She started pulling out all different kinds of herbs and vials from her bright green herbalism bag, and when he looked at her with a confused look she told him of her idea. "I may not be able ta' heal the wound alta'gether, but I can be makin' a potion ta' help the wound heal fasta' wid ma' rain."

It all seemed to click together for him then, and he hastily made a fire like he was told, getting Rust to fetch him twigs as he gathered two large rocks to create a spark. He watched as Nessera pulled out three different kinds of flowers, ones needed to make the potion he assumed. He knew the green moss herb was called an Adder's Tongue because this place was littered with them. That and Ness had talked about many herbs before. The other two, however, he was unfamiliar with.

Nessera noticed his gaze as she worked with the herbs and vials over the fire. "Dey be called Lichbloom an' Frost Lotus." She began to mix two vials which held the remains of the flowers in them. The substance in each of the two vials were different colors. One was a forest green, while the other was a frosty colored pink. As the two colors collided, they changed dramatically. The tips of the vials began to shimmer with a light snowy frost, and the color it turned out to be surprised him. Instead of the colors making a hideous vomit green, it was oddly enough a lavender purple.

Nessera sighed as she finished. "I hope dis can be enough ta' save 'em."

She winced as she began to lightly pour the newly made potion over Loque'Nahak's deep gash. The Spirit Beast roared in pain as the hot liquid touched his open wound. As she tossed the now empty vial to the side, she quickly placed her hands on his wound, chanting healing blessings in Zandali. Her hands, not only mists of water surrounded it, but they were glowing a faint green. The wound slowly got smaller, and before she could finish up the Spirit Beast jumped onto his feet, finding new strength and growled deeply at the back of his throat.

Rust quickly jumped in front of them both, but Horn waved a hand telling him to back off. He chuffed, settling down next to him but he kept alert. He would die against the beast to protect his master if needed.

Loque'Nahak practically ripped the so called cast off of his leg with his teeth. He turned, and ran with blurring speed out of the small, concealed opening. But before he was out of sight, he turned and locked eyes with Nessera, giving her his silent gratitude for answering his plea. And just like the snap of a finger, he was gone.

"But… his wound was not fully healed." Horn looked at Nessera worriedly, who only smiled.

"He be fine. He strong, leg healed now. Potion work like planned, it help heal fasta'. Not completely, but in due time. Da Basin be healin' wit 'em."

Horn pulled her close, nuzzling her neck softly. "I'm so proud of you Ness, you basically just saved Sholazar." He kissed the small of her temple.

"Ya' helped more den ya' tink." She snuggled into the warmth, not even bothered that the temperature was already like a hundred degrees. Rust quietly butted between the two, splitting them apart as he purred so he could join in on the cuddle fest.

"Maybe now I can finish fishing." He chuckled as he helped her up and began to walk back to the River's Heart, his arm sneakily snaking around her waist to pull her closer.

What they didn't know, however, was the frosty eyes that watched over them from afar. Keeping them safe as long as they stay here in his home. The Spirit had blessed them.

A myth no more.

Fin.~


End file.
